


Hey There, Mr. Bluebird

by Snickfic



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation Kink, Post-Captain Marvel (2019), Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24035116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/pseuds/Snickfic
Summary: “I told you about this. It’s an Earth thing? Once a month, with the blood?” Carol'd never had a period when she was with Starforce; something about the Kree diet or the vitamins that maybe weren’t vitamins or who the hell knew why. Now she got them again, though, which probably she should have been grateful for. Meant all her internal processes still worked, even after the power-up.Except, you know, for how her periods were blue now, like she was an ad on TV. Yeah, not used to that yet.
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Yon-Rogg
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64





	Hey There, Mr. Bluebird

Yon-Rogg was waiting in the subway station, lounging against the wall like he had every reason to be there. He didn’t acknowledge Carol as she passed. She stepped into the next one-person meditation chamber she came to, and sixty seconds later, Yon-Rogg crowded in next to her and flipped the lock behind him. “We’re vulnerable here,” he muttered. “Someone could have noticed.”

“I can take ‘em,” she said, even though she knew that wasn’t what he was worried about. “It’s not like anyone’s going to recognize you way out here.” _Here_ , Rad-Nam, a grubby Hala backwater. They might recognize Carol, now that the Supreme Intelligence had beamed her image all over the empire as a wanted traitor, but that was what the aviators were for. She slipped them off now and tucked them into a jacket pocket. And the locals wouldn’t know Yon-Rogg from—Aaron, she supposed. Alan?

Earth idioms still came to her slowly, and not always quite right.

Yon-Rogg tossed back the hood of his robe. He was very close; there was no room in this chamber to be anywhere else. He threw off heat like sun-warmed concrete. “It’s very inconvenient, coming all the way out here.”

“This was your idea,” Carol said, amused. Strange, the places she could find humor now, like how Yon-Rogg had to get all his discontent out before they could accomplish anything. Then again, Yon-Rogg’s discontent was the only reason he met with her at all, so she wasn’t going to complain. “How’s your new squad?”

“ _Inadequate_ ,” he said.

A whole decade of rookies, fresh out of the academy. It was a hell of a demotion. “They’re not as good as me, huh?”

“They’re exactly as infuriating as you,” he said, jaw clenched, gaze slid off to the side. She wanted him to look her in the eye. She wanted to grip his jaw and—

“Mm,” she said, noncommittal. “So, what do you have for me?” The moment of truth: was this the day that Yon-Rogg’s wobbly loyalties lost their balance and ended up back where they’d begun, at the Supreme Intelligence’s feet? It didn’t matter, either way. Carol could fight her way out of any backup he tried to call in. It’d just be inconvenient, losing him as a source. That was all.

Yon-Rogg’s jaw tightened. Abruptly he thrust his hand into his robe and came out with—not a phase pistol, nor any kind of weapon. At least, not a literal one; it was another data stone. Carol released her fist, hanging at her side, and felt the simmering heat in it fade. Yon-Rogg flicked his gaze to her hand and then up, suddenly furious. “I could have killed us both just then, if I’d planned to. With the right equipment.”

“You couldn’t have killed me.” Carol was pretty sure. Ninety-five percent.

“You _let your guard down_ ,” he snarled. They might have been back at any time in the last six years. On any of their missions, in any of their training, that disapproval was always the same.

“With you,” she said, crossing her arms. “I let my guard down with you. Are you saying I shouldn’t?”

His gaze slid away from hers again. “You shouldn’t trust anyone, if you want to survive this—this ludicrous crusade.”

“Uh huh. So, what’s on here?”

What was on there, he explained, was more of the same data he’d been feeding her slowly for three months. Supply hubs, movements of various senior members of the Body Collective. Mid-level intelligence, Talos told her, mostly things a few hours on the data net could dig up with even a basic imperial citizen’s access, but there were nuggets in there sometimes that he and the other Skrulls got excited about.

Carol tucked the stone away in a pocket at her belt. When she turned back, Yon-Rogg’s gaze was still fixed on a corner of the meditation room’s floor. It was filthy; few civic credits went to the maintenance of spaces like this in cities like Rad-Nam. Yon-Rogg’s jaw was set: waiting.

He never made the first move. Sometimes Carol sent him on his way with a few meaningless words—wishing him luck, for all the good that did. _She_ was not the one most endangered by her “crusade.”

Today she sidled closer and slid a careful hand—the same one she’d been firing up a moment ago—along the back of his neck. He inhaled sharply. He was drawn taut under her touch, like a string on Minn-Erva’s bow. Carol leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. His exhale was shaky. All that bullshit about controlling her emotions, when his threatened to slip the leash at the slightest encouragement.

“We shouldn’t—” he began, as he did sometimes.

She wasn’t in his line of command anymore. She wasn’t even in Starforce; its regulations had no hold over her. She’d pointed out all those things to him before, and then she’d learned she didn’t have to. “Okay,” she said softly, her lips just brushing his mouth. She held still. She waited. 

After a few seconds, Yon-Rogg turned into the kiss.

They never fought anymore—not physically, anyway. Those days of training, weapons, hand-to-hand, those were all gone. Instead they had this, and whether it was better or worse or on some other axis altogether, Carol hadn’t figured out. She’d wanted both back then, the fighting first and the fucking after, but he’d never risen to any of her half-serious innuendos, had deflected her occasional flirtation. Just getting a frustrated jaw-clench out of him had been a victory.

His scruples had gotten a lot more flexible recently—about fraternization and other things.

Carol pressed in close, taking kisses, letting Yon-Rogg take them hungrily from her. He’d given up his protests now; he drew her in until they were flush against one another. She felt the expansion of his ribs as he breathed in. She felt the heat of him, that Kree, furnace-like warmth. Yon-Rogg bowed his head under her hand and kissed her like she was water in the desert—better, like she was certainty. Correctness. That’s what he wanted, right? 

Maybe that wasn’t fair. Here he was, committing high treason for her.

Rather than think anymore, Carol unclasped Yon-Rogg’s robe and pushed it from his shoulders. The meditation chamber had a hook; she reached past him to hang the robe on it. Then she went for his pants. Yon-Rogg caught her wrists. “Allow me,” he said, reaching for her belt.

“Not today.” She added, “You don’t wanna, trust me. I’m on my period, so.”

“You’re on your _what_?” he asked, voice heavy with suspicion.

Oh, good grief. “I told you about this. It’s an Earth thing? Once a month, with the blood?” She’d never had a period when she was with Starforce; something about the Kree diet or the vitamins that maybe weren’t vitamins or who the hell knew why. Now she got them again, though, which probably she should have been grateful for. Meant all her internal processes still worked, even after the power-up. 

Except, you know, for how her periods were blue now, like she was an ad on TV. Yeah, not used to that yet.

“Now,” Yon-Rogg said, still dubious.

“For like four days,” she said. “Wet, messy—not really a good time.”

Somehow in the chamber’s cramped space, Yon-Rogg was finding space to kneel, his hands still at her belt. “May I see?” 

“It’s a human thing,” she said. “You’d probably call it a weakness.” She wasn’t all that interested in letting him see any more of those.

There was the patented jaw-clench, and Carol hadn’t even been trying for it this time. “There is very little about you that’s weak.” When she hesitated, he added, “Please.”

She stared down at him. His yellow eyes seemed to glow in the chamber’s dim mood lighting. “You’re going to be weird about the blood thing, aren’t you?” She’d caught him tracing her veins sometimes, and she hadn’t asked what he was thinking about. She knew. He’d gone on about his blood in her often enough, back in the Starforce days.

Yon-Rogg met her gaze evenly and waited, so still, not a fidget in sight. That vaunted Kree self-control was good for something after all, maybe, or maybe the desire warming her gut was for the sheer sight of him on his knees. Maybe it was his shamelessness that kindled the want in her.

Whatever it was, she gave Yon-Rogg a nod at last. He took a sharp breath and went to work on the clasp of her pants. “You’re wearing Kree clothing now,” he said.

“I’m blending in,” Carol said. 

Yon-Rogg snorted his disbelief. “You stand out like a beacon. You always have.”

There was something in his voice that Carol was altogether unwilling to investigate. “Good thing Starforce wasn’t big on covert ops.”

“Mm.” Yon-Rogg’s attention was elsewhere now as he tugged her pants down her hips. He brushed his thumbs across her hip bones. She shivered at the touch, and Yon-Rogg grinned with a smug kind of pleasure. Then he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her briefs and slid them down. Carol’s feet were as far apart as she could spread them with her pants still hooked around her ankles, but that wasn’t far. He couldn’t possibly see much. He nosed between her legs for a moment and then, in a baffled tone, he said, “There’s a string?”

“Yeah, see, I told you this wasn’t sexy.” 

Yon-Rogg looked up, eyes hot, and they kindled a fire in Carol, too, like they always had: that same blazing certainty that she used to face across the mat. “Please,” he said.

So then Carol had to look around the chamber for something to wrap a dirty tampon in. She settled on a pair of spare underwear in her pack. She’d have to discard them. Hala’s garbage processing system was top-notch; let some subnode of the Supreme Intelligence try to work out the origin and purpose of a blood-soaked plug of synthetic cotton. “You know what, I’m just gonna—” 

She dropped onto the edge of the bench and reached between her legs for the string. Again, Yon-Rogg caught her hand. “Allow me,” he said. 

His tone made Carol shiver. She let her knees fall open. “Just, uh. Just pull. Slowly. Wrap it in this,” she said, and pushed the pair of briefs into his hand.

With deliberate care, Yon-Rogg tugged the tampon free. The end of it glistened a rich greenish-blue, and Carol was abruptly disoriented by the knowledge that it had come out of _her_. The strangeness still came over her sometimes, like a kind of double vision: reality overlaid by memory, Carol before and Carol after and Carol now.

“Every month?” Yon-Rogg said, startling her from her thoughts. His eyes were fixed on the tampon in his hand.

“Yep. Isn’t it great?”

Yon-Rogg gazed on the tampon like he really thought it might be. He swaddled it in cotton and tucked the whole thing into the corner between the wall and the bench Carol was sitting on. Then he applied his attention to tugging Carol’s boots off, then her pants, until finally she was sitting bare-assed and sock-footed, and Yon-Rogg, still knelt at her feet, was spreading her knees open wider. His gaze was hot, intensely focused. Yeah, that did something for her. 

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“I get cramps sometimes.”

“But if I—” He trailed off, finally tearing his gaze away to meet her eye. He licked his lips.

 _Oh_. Heat thrummed in Carol’s gut. “No, it’s fine. I’m a little more sensitive, is all.”

“Hmm,” Yon-Rogg said meaningfully, and then he leaned in and put his mouth on her. The first touch of his tongue was barely a tickle. She squirmed against it, and he made a noise of surprise. He retreated just for enough for her to see the dark, blue smear of blood on his lips. He licked them cautiously.

“Everything you hoped for?” Carol said.

“Not yet,” Yon-Rogg said, and then he pressed his whole face between her legs.

“Fuck,” Carol said, and again when she felt Yon-Rogg’s tongue push into her. “Fuck.” Yon-Rogg made another noise, hungry, almost a moan. She felt the press of his tongue over her pussy, down and up again. It felt like an exploration. He’d been like this with his fingers, too, months ago, when she was patient enough to let him; he’d watched her with sharp eyes, looking for her reaction as he’d fingered her and massaged her clit. He’d wanted to be methodical about it.

It’d taken her a few go-rounds to realize _methodical_ wasn’t doing it for either of them. Now she cupped the back of Yon-Rogg’s head and pulled him more firmly against her. He grunted, and she let him adjust, catch his breath, but she didn’t let go. She rolled her hips a little, presenting herself to him. If he wanted to taste her, wet with Kree blood, he’d get all of it. She let her head fall back against the wall of the chamber and relaxed into the arousal, the thrum in her gut, the tickle of Yon-Rogg’s ear against the tender skin of her thigh.

Except she was curious, too. “Hey,” she said, catching him by the forehead and pushing back, just a little. He came up for air, and there they were, stretching across his cheeks—what she’d have called his redwings, back in her Earth days, but that term didn’t apply anymore. They were as blue as a jay bird’s.

“It’s my blood,” Carol said wonderingly. Yon-Rogg scowled in silent suspicion, like she was making fun—or like she was nuts. As if to prove him right, laughter bubbled up in her and spilled over. She tipped his jaw up and smeared cooling blood across his cheek with her thumb. He was always talking about his blood in her veins, like it made her his, but it didn’t. It didn’t. 

It made him hers.

For good or bad, whether she wanted it or not. “My blood,” Carol repeated. “Not yours.” It was so obvious now that she saw herself glistening darkly all across Yon-Rogg’s face. She swiped her thumbs over his skin, spreading the blood around even more, and she watched the confusion in his eyes clear. Maybe he didn’t understand everything she meant, but she thought he got the gist.

She tugged him up just far enough to kiss him. It felt like the affirmation of something, like sealing a deal she’d just now realized she’d made. Yon-Rogg’s mouth was wet and faintly bitter with that strange astringent note that he’d put in her blood along with the color. 

Carol withdrew. She scraped his scalp gently with her fingernails. “Sorry, I interrupted,” she said, and spread her legs a little wider. He gave her a long, searching look, and then he leaned in and put his mouth to her again.

She’d been telling the truth about being a little more sensitive on days like this. When he finally ventured from her pussy to suck on her clit, she barely cut off a moan. She squirmed with every swipe of his tongue, and every slick, wet sound made her throb hotter. She came almost at once, one hand fisted in the collar of his shirt and the other in his hair. _Hers_ , she thought again when he resurfaced at last, painted with her. For a moment she only sat there, admiring her handiwork and waiting for her breath to slow. Gradually a soft blue flush shadowed Yon-Rogg’s cheeks, under the blood. He held her gaze and lifted his chin: unbowed. Shameless.

When she reached for him, he let her open the front of his pants at last and take him in hand. He was always silent when she touched him, and she was always a little bit sorry about it; maybe someday they’d be able to take a little bit more time and she’d get some noise out of him. Then she realized she was planning for a next time. After that she focused on the hitches of Yon-Rogg’s breath, the way his cock darkened in her hand. He was the color of a bruise by the time he came with a huff of air barely audible over the sound of Carol’s own breath.

He stayed quiet as they cleaned up. She offered him another pair of laundered underwear to clean his face with. Results were mixed; it was a good thing his robe was hooded. He watched with keen interest as she inserted a fresh tampon, and she flushed under his gaze, but she let him look anyway. 

At last they were dressed again, as clean as they were going to get, all their business finished. 

Yon-Rogg made no move towards the door. He scowled at Carol’s boots, and just as she was forming a question, he slipped his hand in his robe again. He brought something out and opened his hand, and in his palm was—well, it was a data stone. Softly enough that Carol strained to hear, Yon-Rog said, “Embedded on here are the locations of a thousand and thirty-five of the Supreme Intelligence’s housing nodes.”

Carol stared at the stone. She stared at Yon-Rogg. There was nothing like this on the data net. Carol had never had access to anything like this even in her Starforce days—she hadn’t known anyone who did. “Don’t upload it into your personal matrix,” Yon-Rogg said. “Likely there are tripwires I didn’t find. Quarantine it somewhere before you go digging.”

Carol closed her fingers around the stone and zipped it into a pocket in the lining of her suit, near her ribs. “Will do,” she said. She didn’t ask how long he’d had been carrying it. She didn’t ask, _Why today?_. She said, “Thanks.”

He sucked in a sharp breath and stepped aside, as far as he was able, to allow her access to the door. “Take care,” he said. His eyes burned yellow as he said it.

“Sure thing,” she said, just to hear his sigh of frustration. Then she cupped his jaw and kissed him one last time. “Hey,” she said, stepping back. She knuckled him in the shoulder. It didn’t feel like enough, so she gave in and squeezed his hand. “You too, okay?”

Something in the set of his jaw relaxed. It wasn’t a smile, it wasn’t even a friendly acquaintance to one, but still: something softened. A smear of drying blood shadowed the corner of his mouth. “I will,” he said.

[end]


End file.
